Twenty Years
by Cohen101
Summary: Joey It’d been twenty years since he’d last spoken to any of them, save for Chandler. And even that was just a minute long conversation to inform them of the birth of his first child. Now that child was the oldest of three, and
1. 1

**A/N : Joey one-shot. Yes, only a little bit of Mondler mush, but tell me what you think. Joey too serious for you? Please review!**

**Twenty Years. **

It'd been twenty years since he'd last spoken to any of them, save for Chandler. And even that was just a minute long conversation to inform them of the birth of his only child. Now that child was the oldest of three, and-

and it didn't matter what else. Because he'd made a decision, and he would have to stick to it.

He shook his head in attempt to get rid of the thoughts and threw his legs over the end of the bed, taking the cover off as he went. He stole a glance at Alex, smiling softly to himself at the thought of they life they'd created together. The life that they worked so hard to get and make work… he never thought it would be him in this situation. He had a wife, he had kids, and he'd even had a chick and a duck for a little while. He had a pretty good life, nothing to complain about.

But he didn't have his friends. They hadn't been there at the wedding, for the birth of his first child, for his first big part in LA, or his first anniversary party. They hadn't been there because he didn't invite them.

It'd been such a long time since he'd seen any of them. Such a long time…

Twenty Years.

He'd been through this day nineteen times before, and he'd go through it another nineteen, because he had to. He owed it to them.

Cutting his connection to them had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He side-stepped their numerous calls, stashed away the yearly Christmas cards in a box deep inside the closet, hid at Gina's house when they came to visit, and it broke his heart every time he saw them unknowingly talking to Chance, Ryes, or Melody. But over time they eventually stopped their trips and attempts to maintain contact, and he was able to be happy. Happy that he could finally begin the process of forgetting about them, which was so far proving to be painfully impossible.

Now his kids were growing up, Melody and Chance, the oldest, about to move out. To New York. Closer to them. And closer to his secret.

Twenty Years.

He knew he could never go back because of what he did, but he missed New York and everything that came with it. The apartments, the foosball table, the chick and the duck, Central Perk, but most of all them. The five people he wanted to see the most in the world, but would travel just that before he let them get too close.

He stood up and walked over to the closet. He opened the door slowly. He knew was he was looking for, but he didn't want to get it. Part of him was shouting not to do it, to be stronger, but another half knew that no matter what he did, it was going to end up in his hands by the end of the day, and he really rather get it over with.

Kneeling down on the plush beige carpet, he crawled to the back of the closet and pulled out a box. It was old, worn down by the years of sitting in a closet, brought out only when it hurt the most. The sides were close to falling apart, even though the things it contained were no more then a memoir or two, and a couple dozen pictures.

Opening the deteriorating flaps, he reached into the box gently, lifting out a thin stack of pictures. They were of different sizes, the most common being the 10x8 most cameras have developed. One of the larger pictures was a posed one- one that was taken at Monica and Chandler's wedding. They were all in it, smiling, him in his ridiculous battle outfit while the other five were wearing bridesmaid dresses and tuxes. He smiled at the picture, running his eyes over the faces, taking in the characteristics of each. He paused at one he knew better then the rest. One he'd seen far more often. The characteristics that he saw every day.

Twenty Years.

Probably more like thirty since that particular picture was taken, and he wondered how all of them looked now. Would there be grey streaks in their hair? Would the girls have dyed their hair to hide any grey? He thumbed to a picture of him and baby Emma, stopping. Emma would be… almost twenty-two now, and he wondered if she looked more like Rachel or Ross.

It pained him that he didn't know, didn't know how Emma looked, how Jack or Erica turned out, if Phoebe and Mike had any luck having children. Did Ross and Rachel have other children? He received an invitation to their wedding years and years ago, but didn't reply. The fancy card and painfully perfect writing made him smile;

_You are hereby invited to the wedding of_

_Dr. Ross Gellar_

_And_

_Miss Rachel Green_

Then there had been a bunch of writing stating where and when.

Then… on the bottom of the card, in Rachel's writing was,

_Joey, we miss you. Come home. Me and Ross were hoping you would do the service for us… Emma misses her uncle and I don't want her to grow up without him… Come home. Don't do this, please. _

_Love, _

_Rach, Mon, Chandler, Pheebs and Ross_

_xoxo_

He'd thrown the card along with any other mail he'd gotten from them into the box, and he left those at the very bottom. He didn't want the temptation of opening them, didn't want to know if they were angry letters, sad letters or just letters begging him to come back. He knew if he read them he would crack and call, and it was the last thing he wanted to do.

He was protecting them, and that was enough motivation to keep his hand away from the phone, his fingers away from dialing the number he'd memorized from the moment he'd gotten it. It wasn't only them he risked hurting, it was _her _as well. The love of his life, one down from Alex. The biggest mistake that cost him everything in NY, but also gave him everything he ever wanted from his life.

He was staring at a picture of the six of them sitting in the coffee house, the camera zoomed in mostly on Rachel, and he could still remember the person who had taken the picture. They were all squeezed in around her, Ross' head only just fitting in. Of course Gunther would zoom in on Rachel, it was to be expected.

-------------

"_Jack, stop fidgeting!" _

"_Stop tying it so tightly!" _

"_It's a TIE, Jack. They're supposed to be tight!" _

"_Yeah, it's a TIE Emma, not a bloody NOOSE! Stop trying to kill me!" _

"_I'm not, but I think I might if you don't stop moving!" _

Monica threw her hands up in defeat. There was no possible way to block out their bickering, and people were starting to stare up at the ceiling as if it could tell the two children standing on it to shut up. Except that they weren't children any more. They were all grown up, all moved out, and she missed them. She spotted Erica coming down the hall and pulled her into the kitchen.

"Hey Mom, what's up?" she asked a little startled. She looked to the ceiling when the next couple shouts reached them.

"_Ow! Stop it! You're pinching my Adams apple!" _

"_Well you're not going to** have** one for much longer!"_

Monica took a deep breath, dodging behind the kitchen doors to avoid the curious looks of the guests. As much as she missed them, they were going to be sooo grounded if this continued. "Can you go upstairs and tell Jack and Emma to tone it down a little? Please?" she looked pleadingly at her daughter, who tried to contain a laugh.

"Sure," she answered, turning around only to run into Chandlers arms.

"Yes, I think the people all the way in London can't hear them," he added, kissing Erica on the head before he let her pass. She squirmed at the attention, trying to get away, almost the same height as Monica. Jack was just an inch or so taller, and Chandler was proud that he was still the tallest one in the family. Ben had outgrown Ross considerably, and they all still had a big laugh whenever he bent down to hug Rachel or Monica, or walked with his son, Nick, hand in hand. He watched as Erica walked away, smiling at the sight.

"Why did they have to grow up?" Monica asked, sliding into Chandlers arms. Chandler kissed her,

"I don't know," he answered, resting his head on hers. His mind was preoccupied. Their children had grown up and moved out, ready to take on the world with their friends. He remembered a similar day- not for him, but for Ross, the day he left home for collage. True, Jack and Erica were almost out of collage and already successfully moved to New York, but it was the same idea. He hadn't wanted them to leave any more then they wanted to stay.

At first he'd had his doubts as a father, but he'd soon realized that all it took was love, and the rest would come naturally. He knew he'd been a better father then his dad had been to him, and every time he saw Erica and Jack it made him smile. They'd sat them down when they were in their teens and came clean about their adoption. Chandler hadn't wanted to, but when Monica reminded him of the boy he told was adopted, he caved. He didn't want Erica or Jack finding out from a stranger, but he was still hesitant and unsure.

They sat them both down and explained everything. Why they were adopted, how they went through the process, and their birth. It surprised him when Erica got up after their talk and hugged both him and Monica, saying that she still loved them and that she didn't care, because they would always be her real parents. Jack had been more emotional about it, brooding over the conversation for a day before coming to his senses, and repeating what Erica had said.

And he had yet to tell Emma she was a mistake. Life was going good.

"_Both of you shut up! We can hear you all the way from downstairs and Mom's getting pissed!" _

Monica buried her head in Chandler's chest. What the hell had happened to subtlety?

"Ah, our children," Chandler stated proudly, laughing at Monica's distress. No more shouts could be heard, and he felt his eyes traveling indirectly towards the phone. Every birthday he had the same wish, the same hope… and it had yet to still come true. Rachel, Ross and Phoebe were here, and he only needed one more to make the day perfect.

"He might still call," Monica whispered, and Chandler shook his head.

"It's been twenty years Mon. He'll call at the same time the Queen does."

Chandler's attempt at the lame humor contrasted with his eyes, the sadness and betrayal in them not lost on her. "He was my brother," Chandler finally said quietly, his head in Monica's hair. Monica nodded her head, wanting to say that Joey had been like a brother to her as well, but knew that their connection had been much deeper.

"I know sweetie, I know…" was all she could manage.

------------------------

"Are you going to call?" a voice behind him asked softly. He would have jumped if not so entranced with the picture. Thin arms wrapped around him and her chin rested on his slowly graying hair. He let the picture drop back into the box, and shut it before he could remember anything else.

He stood up and Alex led him back to the bed. "You know I can't," he answered softly slouching off the edge. He held her hand, wanting nothing more then to let it all go and call, consequences be damned. But he couldn't do that to them.

"Our kids are moving to New York Joey. You can't protect them forever. What if they run into someone? It's a possibility, and if one of your old friends see-"

"I know!" he put his head in his hands. When did everything become so complicated? One second they were putting little Melody to sleep and the next she was getting up and moving across the country with Chance to NY. "It isn't our decision. They're going to go, whether we want them to or not. Maybe they'll never run into each other. Maybe no one will recognize them. Maybe-"

"Maybe they _will _see her, and _will _figure it out. They're probably a lot smarter then you give them credit, Joe. But our kids are growing up. We can't stop that."

Alex wrapped her arms around him once again, and he leaned against her. "I know, I just- I wish all of this would go away," he muttered, returning the hug after a moment. "I wish everything would be normal, I wish…"

"I wish I could have my friends back," he added softly afterwards, so softly Alex wasn't sure she heard it. His head was resting against Alex's but he could still clearly see their family portrait, his arms around Alex, and their three children in front of them. Chance with his short, dark hair, gelled up into spikes, and Melody, little Mel that looked so much like her that it scared him. If any of his friends ever saw her, they'd know right away what must have happened, that he'd definitely crossed the line all those years ago.

Tiny steps could be heard hurling to their room and he smiled away his problems. It was Ryes, his seven year old star. The thumps became louder and louder before they stopped, a split second later, a tiny ball of energy landing on his back.

"Daddy!" Ryes yelled, and he turned around to smile at the child. His child. He wrapped his arms around Ryes' tiny form into a bear hug, pulling him in-between himself and Alex. Alex smiled at the both of them, taking a turn to kiss Ryes' head. His brother and sister were 14 years older then he was, but it had never been a problem before and certainly wasn't now.

"Sleep good kiddo?" he asked, kissing his dark hair lightly.

Ryes nodded eagerly, his blue eyes shaking furiously. He looked almost exactly like a mini-Joey, and was the only boy in the class that didn't believe girls had cooties, and would hold open doors, pull out seats and share with them. He was growing up to be quiet the charmer.

"Guess what day it is daddy!" Ryes asked, wiggling away from his hands and climbing over his mother. He caught onto Ryes' legs, pulling the kid towards him.

"Tuesday?" he asked, and Ryes giggled, shaking his head. "Wednesday?" Ryes laughed harder, his head shaking so hard it look close to falling off. "Thursday?" He would have continued with the pattern, but Ryes got up and jumped onto his stomach.

"No! It's swimming lesson day! You're taking me swimming!" He raised a single eyebrow, teasingly.

"Am I?" he asked, and Ryes nodded excitedly. The swimming lesson was part of the plan. Afterwards they had a flight at 4 that would take them to NY, and their eldest's new apartment. And back to the city that held a mountain of memories for him. He'd grown up a lot from the time that he'd left, and he wasn't sure that if they saw him, they'd even recognize him…

"Common Ryes, lets go eat, and then you can drag daddy to the pool," Alex nodded, and Ryes followed her out the door without a backwards look.

Joey sat up in the bed, staring at his hands. He'd matured so much through the years, and he knew why. He'd been forced to change so much; he wanted his old life back – the one he had where he didn't have to worry about anything, always had someone watching his back. So many things had changed…

Twenty Years.

Twenty Years since he left New York and all his friends behind.

Twenty Years since he never showed up for Chandler's birthday party.

Twenty Years since he'd written the note that was supposed to explain everything and nothing.

Twenty Years since the birth of his first child and the start of his 6 month single parent life.

Twenty Years since Chandler left the message- his only wish for Joey to come home.

Twenty Years since an era had ended… and another had begun.

Twenty Years gone and past, another Twenty waiting right around the corner.


	2. 2

**A/N: So here it is, by popular demand (or rather, by the demand of numerous people who didn't know what was going on; I don't blame you- though you are expected to read my mind _tisk tisk_) the second part of 'Twenty Years', which will be spread out over a period of time, switching between characters. **

**There will be one other chapter, coming up soon, that will explain absolutely EVERYTHING! – you have left to wonder about this story. I separated the two chapters using my executive power (although I'm the only one in this group, so…)**

**Okay, I'm going wacky. Please, read it and tell me what you think. I hope I didn't ruin the first chapter, or confuse anyone even more. Well, the second ones okay, because I can fix that. I can't fix this. Gosh darn I'm tired. I won't blame you if you haven't read any of this. Only read the last part. Down there. Right under. I need sleep. Or caffeine. Oh boy… Tell me if it's any less confusing. Not me, the story… though I am confusing. I'm confusing myself… oh-Kay! GOOD NIGHT! ENJOY!**

**Please review. **

2.2

Monica stopped in the doorway when she caught sight of Chandler, who was sitting backwards on a chair, his hands folded along the backrest, and a finger lingering thoughtfully on his lips as his eyes were predictably trained on the motionless phone.

She could sense the disappointment in the room, and it dampened her spirits just seeing the state in which her husband was in. She dreaded this day only because of the helpless feeling that entered her stomach each and every single time she saw the love of her life when he thought that no one was watching. The mask on his face broke and through it shined those emotions that he felt deep down in his heart; she caught a glimpse at how utterly and completely crushed he was because of this. Then subsequently realizing that there was absolutely nothing she could do to make the pain go away. Not even time itself could soften the impact that was left on him.

"Chandler," she whispered softly, the years of worn patience resting heavily on the declaration of his name. He jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, turning to face her while swinging his legs to the side of the chair.

"Sorry," he muttered, his eyes downcast like a school-boy who'd been caught causing mischief in the classroom. She smiled at the childish features, walking towards him as he stole another glance at the phone. He'd promised her that he wouldn't linger on the past this year, but so far Chandler was finding that the promise was harder to keep than he originally assumed it would be.

He jumped again when he looked back to see Monica almost a foot away, looking at him curiously. "Sorry," he muttered, reaching up with his hands absently, "I didn't realize that you could glide across the ground so quickly."

She laughed at his attempt at humor, wrapping his arms around herself and falling into his protective hold, "I don't glide, I slither," she joked, resting her head on Chandler's.

Rather than laughter, Chandler resorted to a deep sigh he'd been bottling since the morning. "I was sort of hoping you'd forget," Monica muttered, turning around to face him and running her palm across his cheek. She gazed deep into his eyes, seeing that he was still very much haunted by the happenings of nearly twenty-two years ago. It had scarred him deeply, and he carried his scar with shame, insisting all the while that it didn't matter.

But she knew Chandler. She knew that Chandler knew Joey. Or had known Joey –rather, thought he knew Joey. Monica knew that it was killing him inside, even all these years later, that Joey had left them. That he still didn't know the reason for the action. Chandler had allowed himself to get close to someone, allowed himself to share a bond and connection with someone that ran too deep to be deemed as love; had exposed his heart so fully and willingly, that he'd left himself wide open to be destroyed by the one person who had the opportunity to do so, but who he knew would never dare to... and who had done just that, effectively and efficiently, using a small piece of paper and some words.

It had shaken the very foundation of his life, his beliefs, affecting him so deeply that every part of his personality and lifestyle had received a drastic blow of change. He took solace in their kids, pushed away from everyone and everything else. His marriage was suffering, as were his relationships with his closest friends. How he himself was suffering, by his own hand.

Monica wrote letters in the beginning – to Joey. About how Chandler was doing, how he was getting worse, how he was pushing her away and pushing his friends away. How he was snapping at her - snapping at everyone. How one day she snapped, and how he spent that night and the rest of the week on the couch. How she almost gave up – how they both almost did. Every time pleading for Joey to come back and stop what could only be called madness.

She wrote about how they finally sat down and talked. How they talked about his issues, and why he was feeling the way he was, and her issues, and why she felt that way. About how she could help him, and he could help her.

And then she stopped writing, because things got better, and then great.

In a way Joey had become her temporary journal, one that she wrote to only when things were bad. She knew that he didn't read her letters, but getting her feelings down on paper felt well when talking to Chandler was impossible.

The twins weren't old enough to remember all the fights and going-ons back then, but they noticed the fake sort of way their father conducted himself through the celebrations that were held on his special day. They knew enough not to ask questions, knowing 'Mom's got it covered'.

She hated seeing him like this, but knew that it was a very sensitive subject for him. More so then with the others, in any case.

"It's my birthday Mon," he responded, after a moment, allowing her to do her thing. Allowing her to try and make him feel better, knowing that it was making her feel better, but knowing that it was a hopeless cause. "I'm never going to forget my birthday," he added quietly. There was finality in his tone that suggested the end of the conversation, and Monica embraced his feelings.

Monica stood up, taking Chandler's hand and picking him up off the chair and away from depression. "Come and enjoy the party," she pleaded. A sudden though occurred to her, and she pulled in close to Chandler, "You'll love Erica's boyfriend."

"Is he funny?" Chandler asked, trying to forget about the phone and its constant silence.

Monica shrugged, and Chandler's head turned once more towards the phone, Monica's hand stopping him mid-way. "Party," she reminded firmly, pulling Chandler away from the kitchen and into the doorway.

"Fine," he moaned playfully, back to his usual self, quickly scanning the individuals mingling in the groups that had formed, the familiar shapes of Ross, Phoebe, Mike and Rachel standing out. Wait, he corrected himself, Rachel was over there, not _there_.

"Mon… It that-"

"Chance's sister," she said, and Chandler's face acknowledged the name of Erica's boyfriend. "They lived together for a little while, but now that Chance lives with Erica…" Monica trailed off, and Chandler nodded, understanding. "They seem to be great friends," Monica provided, surprised that Chandler hadn't noticed her before. Erica was always talking about her in the highest respect, both her and her brother, her boyfriend, the charming Chance.

He nodded again thoughtfully, taking in her physical features. Monica smiled, watching the thoughts that first processed through her mind taking place on Chandlers face.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked slowly.

Monica nodded, fine-tuned to the brainwave that Chandler was using, "That Melody looks a little like-"

"Rachel?" Chandler finished, "Yeah! It's a little weird, isn't it?" he asked, and Monica smiled, forcefully pushing him out of the door. Her and several others had already been through this and the resemblance, and Chandler was late to the ball.

"Go mingle!" she ordered with a laugh.

oOo

The bustle of a coffee house was enough to make anyone lose their mind, and though Chance grew up in LA, this place was even busier then half the places he'd visited.

"What can I get you?" the lady at the cashier asked, looking up at him with practiced sweetness.

Chance flashed her a smile, and the sweetness instantly seemed to become more genuine. "A double, double?" he asked politely, and she nodded, punching the order into a high-tech looking computer.

"Coming right up," she said brightly, reaching out her hand for Chance's five dollars.

Chance looked at his watch, and the crowd that was gathered around the pick-up station. "How long will it be?" he asked worried. He wasn't late yet, but he really wanted to get home before his show started.

"Just a second," she muttered, the beginnings of a scheme flickering in her eyes. Chance smiled at her as she slipped him change and went off to fill his order herself; the other workers too busy to notice anything strange going on. She caught his eye and nodded, Chance dropping two dollars into the tip jar as he went to her.

"Thanks," he whispered as he discreetly took the coffee to go from her hands. She smiled and hurried back to take the next order. Chance smiled to himself, grinning when he realized that the girl had written her phone number on the side of the cup.

He shook his head, juggling the cup as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his keys. He should have known that it was going to be a recipe for disaster, his eyes glued to the ground as he fumbled for the scraps of metal. He smiled triumphantly as he felt the warm tip of them on his fingertips.

"Hey!" a girl shouted in protest a split second before his whole body was propelled forward and abruptly snapped back again, his double double spilling straight onto the girls white blouse.

"GAWD!" she shouted in frustration, throwing her hands up. Chance's eyes opened wide as he watched the girl flip out over the stain on her blouse, unable to speak.

She was gorgeous.

The boy beside her rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's a shirt, Erica – not the constitution."

Chance stared at her mortified. "I'm sooo sorry," he spluttered, his mouth surprisingly working, thouch he could feel himself turn bright red in her presence. "I wasn't watching where I was going-"

"Asshole," the girl stated under her breath, and then lifted her head up, seeing him for the first time.

The boy beside her looked shocked at her behavior, taking her arm sternly. "Erica!" he reprimanded,

"I'm sooo sorry," Chance repeated, someone bumping into his back, almost sending another cascade of brown liquid onto the girl. He carefully held it away, placing it after on a table so that one of the many other customers wouldn't help recreate the scene. He fought to find the words or a way to help the situation, though the girl across from him was having an equally hard time forming complete sentences.

"Erica-"

"Shut up Jack," she snapped, and 'Jack' looked unfazed by her attack. Chance's heart skipped a beat. 'Jack' wasn't her boyfriend then. "What's your name?" she asked shyly,

"Chance," he grinned. "Uh- would it be alright with you if we went across the street and I bought you another shirt?" he asked hopefully. He hated it when people were angry with him, and this could potentially become a first date. Or so he hoped.

"Sorry," Jack answered, "We have to-"

Once again he was cut off by Erica, "That'd be great."

Chance took off his coat, wrapping it around Erica's shoulders, enjoying the close proximity that lasted between them for the couple seconds it took to cover her. "Take this, so you won't get cold," he explained, and Erica smiled,

"Thank you," she said, staring up into Chance's eyes. He looked back, her green eyes slowly luring him into their spell.

"You're… welcome," he whispered, and Jack cleared his throat off to the side, making his presence known and snapping them out of their moment.

Chance slipped his hand into Erica's, hoping he wasn't being too forward. He knew what to do in order to get girls to fall for him, but he wanted this one to like him for who he was, not who he could pretend to be. Jack stared at Erica who stubbornly left her gaze on Chance's eyes; Chance nodded at Jack and left hand in hand with Erica, Jack remaining behind with a raised eyebrow.

This could be the start of something for Erica – she didn't usually fall for guys. He spotted the cup that Chance had left on the table, seeing the number written on the side of it.

Mixed feelings rose; Chance seemed like a nice guy from first glance, but was he a player? Or did he genuinely like Erica?

oOo

He was going back.

_He_ was going back.

He _was_ going back.

He was _going _back.

He was going _back. _

Which ever way he said it, however he twisted the words in attempt to fit exactly what he was try to say, the phrase still managed to envelope him in the cold, dreadful icy chill that worked its way from his spine to the rest of his body.

He was going back, for the second time in more then twenty years. And it was eating him up inside that he wasn't going back to see them. It was so difficult, to be so close to them, yet be unable to take those extra steps and see them. It felt like torture everyday that he was there, knowing he could just pick up the phone and dial. Truth be told, he didn't know if they still had the same numbers, or who lived where, but he could find them easily if he wanted to… but no, he couldn't… could he?

"When are we leaving daddy?" a sleepy nine-year old Ryes asked, curled up in Joey's protective arms. Enthusiasm that had been high at the beginning of the day had depleted into bad humor, even the wonder of video games unable to create a semblance of occupation for Ryes. Joey had always felt a little queasy in large airports; but at least he understood what a huge undertaking it was to maintain flight arrivals and departs at the times given.

He hated airplanes. They had taken him away from them, taken them away from his old family. He noticed Ryes staring up at him with a confused face and put on a quick smile, masking his feelings so that the young boy wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

"Just be patient Ryes," he said calmly and Ryes shook his head, barrowing it in Joey's shoulder. The kid was tired, and Joey sympathized with him. He could hardly stand the waiting, and he was _a lot_ older then Ryes.

"But I'm tired," Ryes whined, hugging his PSP close to his chest.

Alex placed a hand on Ryes' back, beginning to rub a small circle on it. "Just put your head on daddy's shoulder and close your eyes honey," she requested, and Ryes did so, with more force then was probably needed, "Soon you'll be able to see Chance and Melody… isn't that exciting?"

Ryes nodded, rubbing his forehead against Joey's chest, trying to get comfortable.

"Ground control, to Major Tom…" Joey started singing quietly, his husk voice integrating with sound from the bustling airport. He felt Ryes begin to find a comfortable position on his lap. "Ground control to Major Tom; Take your protein pills and put your helmet on…"

Joey smiled at Alex as he finished the song, the steady dip in Ryes' breathing rate a clear indicator that their old sing-and-rub method was still effective. At least now the kid would get some sleep before they bordered.

"You going to be okay?" Alex asked, looking up at Joey and putting her head on his unoccupied shoulder.

Joey's smile instantly faded. Ryes had fallen asleep so there was no reason to pretend anymore; the song had only reminded him of his friends, as it usually did. He couldn't go see them – it would make all the pain he'd gone through pointless. He didn't want to flatter himself, but if they had taken it as badly as he though, he didn't want their suffering to be pointless either. "I'm going to have to be," he stated with resign. He had to keep going, but it seemed impossible. He couldn't; not for much longer at least.

"Did Chance tell you what his big surprise was going to be?" she asked and Joey managed a heartfelt laugh, although he had a good idea about what the 'surprise' was about,

"Stubborn kid said that it was a surprise and that that was that."

oOo

Chance sat on the light gray couch, holding hands delicately with Erica, knowing that he was transferring his nervousness to her, his heart beating five hundred miles a minute. The refrigerator gave a start, and Chance jumped, his arms jolting instantly, snatching his shaking hands away from Erica's. A split second later he realized what had caused the sound and kissed Erica on the cheek apologetically, standing up nervously and beginning to pace along the couch, wearing down the Bing's expensive decorative carpet rug.

"Are you nervous?" Erica asked softly, thinking it would be cute of him to be. She leaned back into the couch and watched as Chance paced while she sucked on her pointer fingernail.

He stopped abruptly, turning to her and saying, "No. You?" a split second before continuing his movement.

"No," Erica answered quickly.

Chance stopped pacing in front of her and sat down, "Only a tiny bit," he answered more honestly.

Erica nodded, taking his hands in hers and turning to face him. "Just a tad," she admitted.

"By which I mean a little."

"The normal amount," she nodded in agreement.

"None of this excess neuroticism."

"Maybe just a little more nervous then I 'outta be."

"More nervous then our parents are."

"…"

"I'm hella nervous, Erica!" Chance admitted, running his hands through his hair, his voice shaking.

Erica looked reassured by his revelation, "Oh thank God, me too!"

He jumped up and folded his legs underneath his bum as he sat down, not knowing whether he was more excited or nervous. "We're getting married Erica!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his joy.

"I know!" she squealed, and they kissed excitedly. It quickly turned into more, the activity of which halted immediately when they heard the front doors opening.

"Kiddies, we're home!" Chance heard Chandler shout through the open door, followed by Monica reprimanding him for something that sounded like yelling like a hoodlum. Chandler soon entered the large room, smiling when he caught sight of Erica and Chance, Monica following closely behind him.

"How are you two enjoying the day?" he asked suggestively, and Chance stood up, nodding and greeting him with a handshake.

Erica shook her head, seeing right through her father's scheme, "We aren't tell you what's up until Chance's parents get here daddy," she reminded firmly, and Chandler's shoulders sagged.

"You can't blame a guy for trying," he muttered, winking at Chance who laughed.

Monica tidied up the comforter that the two children had unfolded during their stay on the couch, looking up with a smile, "So when are they due?" she asked Chance, in regards to his parents.

"Any minute now," he assured, and as if by cue, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Chandler called, and the door was opened apprehensively, followed by a meek, feminine,

"Hello?"

Chance raised his voice, deciding he was feeling excited, not nervous, "First left Mom!" he shouted, grinning uncontrollably with Erica. They stood up together, hand in hand, all four of them looking through the opening that led to the front door.

A small head poked through the arch, and Chandler's breath caught in his throat. Monica straightened herself slowly, as the small boy looked around the room, and upon seeing Chance, shouted, "Chance!" and ran out to him with open arms.

Chance side-stepped the table, bending down so that he could grab his little brother as he came hurling towards him, lifting him up easily, "Ryes!" Ryes' arms flung around Chance's neck, as he happily hugged his brother, grinning from ear to ear.

He pulled away, his legs wrapped around Chance's waist, bouncing up and down from excitement, lifting up both his hands and placed one on each cheek. He smiled as he drank in all the details of his brothers' face. "I missed you," he said honestly, hugging him again. Chance kissed him lovingly on the top of the head, forgetting how much he missed having his little brother.

"Well, you've grown up since I last saw you," he commented, acting impressed, "You're almost as big as I am!" he laughed, and he turned around so that he could face his soon-to-be fiancés family. Ryes turned his head to take in the other people in the room, meeting Chandler's eyes as the man stared at him in disbelief.

"Erica, Chandler, Monica, this is my little brother Ryes," he introduced, and Ryes sat jauntily on Chance's hip, smiling shyly to everyone in the room.

Monica stared at him. She couldn't stop. Erica was beaming, and all she could see was this little boy's short pitch black hair, his square Italian face, the faint dimples that lined the corners of his smile, the way he filled out his turtleneck sweater and matching black jeans with such confidence of who he was, his big puppy brown eyes flickering over to hers filled with honesty and naivety. She didn't have to look at Chandler to tell that they were thinking the same thing – years of marriage and closeness had accomplished that.

This boy seemed to be an incarnation, albeit a much younger one, of their long departed friend. Which made one wonder… could the father be…?

"Ryes, where did you run off to?" the impatient, worried call filled the home.


	3. 3

**A/N: The final chapter in Twenty Years. So this is pretty much going to explain everything in a nutshell, sorry if it's a bit long, but hopefully it's good. Chance and Erica are pretty much here for comic relief of some sort with their obliviousness, because I couldn't really forget about them…**

**Please review and tell me what you think about the ending, and if it's satisfactory. **

"_Ryes, where did you run off to?" the impatient, worried call filled the home. _

"Mommy!" Ryes shouted, revealing their position, a grin ever present on his face. He put his hand on Chance's hair as the eldest son took his brother to go see his love. Monica tore her eyes away from Ryes at the exact same moment that Chandler did, and they glanced at each other before turning to the archway, where a pretty woman with dirty blonde hair appeared. One glance at the party of people in the room and she froze, her eyes flickering back and forth from Monica and Chandler. 

She recognized these two people from somewhere…

Fear flooded her heart as her husband's footsteps got closer and closer to her- closer to seeing exactly whose house their son was in. She recognized these two people from the pictures, the ones that she every so often saw Joey holding. She knew he was close with these two, closer to the man – was it Chandler? – then he had been to anyone else.

This meeting couldn't possibly end well. She had to warn him. Ryes was laughing with Chance and a younger girl while she was frozen to the ground, her feet crazy glued to the tiled flooring and unwilling to move.

She had viewed Joey's past through the few pictures that he had retained, and these two were present in almost every one of them. Was it bizarre that she'd watched this couple grow and get married through pictures?

The footsteps came closer, and by the looks on Chandler and the women's face, they knew the familiarity that Ryes shared with Joey, and had identified him with said familiarity, though maybe the significance of this was still a mystery. It wouldn't be for long; she _had_ to warn Joey before he saw them himself but she couldn't get herself to turn around and say anything.

These were two of the people he left. The people he left behind that didn't understand his reasons or motives for leaving, who'd been hurting over all these years by his decision. And two of those people, the ones that she'd watched get married in the pictures were at this very moment, standing in front of her, about to receive the biggest shock of their lives.

"Where's my boy?" Joey asked happily, pulling her out of her trance as he slid an arm around her waist, kissing her softly on the cheek. Alex watched as the man's face turned from confusion to disbelief. Anger flickered in his eyes, and she felt an obligation to bring the situation into perspective for Joe. He turned around, his back to the married couple, beginning to walk, trying to tug her along with him.

"Joey," she whispered with a nod towards the betrayed persons. Joey sensed her tone and turned around slowly, already knowing in his heart what he would turn around to find. What he feared would happen was already happening, the first domino flicked and the rest about to come toppling down in an uncontrollable manner. He lifted his eyes and froze just as they all had when he saw them, his heart sinking and raising simultaneously.

Chandler and Monica Bing- he would recognize them anywhere.

Monica was the first to break the stillness of the moment, running the distance towards him and throwing her arms around his neck. He didn't know what to expect to happen, but this wasn't it. He buried his head in her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist and all but lifting her up.

"I love you so much," she whispered, and Joey tightly closed his eyes in disbelief at what was happening. He was holding Monica in his arms. Monica, sister of Ross, best friend to Rachel and Phoebe, wife of Chandler, was in his arms. It had been so unbelievably long since he'd last done it.

"Me too," he whispered back, breathing in what he hoped was and wasn't reality. She smelled so good, and so right, so _there _that her body melded into his as his minds eye exploded with old memories. She pulled away almost instantly, tears streaming down her face, the happiness of seeing her Joey again slowly fading, being replaced by hatred for what he had done to her, her husband and her friends. In one fluid motion she pulled away further, raised her arm and slapped him across the face as hard as she could manage.

Joey's head snapped to the side, and the sound of skin against skin like a thunder bolt in the room; all laughter from the kid's end of the room seized within the split second. Chance and Erica were staring at them mortified, Ryes gazing in the general direction confused at the most, not understanding what had just happened, nor the significance of it.

"I deserved that," Joey whispered, ashamed, hanging his head as he brought it back towards Monica. He guessed that this much would happen, but he couldn't look her in the eye, afraid of what he may see.

She stood in front of him, physically shaking from all the pain that he'd caused her and her family, anger and disgust running rampant through her veins. "Yes," she said shortly, her voice filled with fury and resentment. "You did."

He looked up at her, slowly sliding his eyes up her face until he met her eyes. She stared into them, trying to see, hoping to see, anything that would explain the past twenty-two long years. She saw nothing there that gave her a satisfactory answer, slowly growing furious at finding nothing but sadness and remorse in them.

Her frustration was beginning to boil over, and she was afraid that if she was in the room any longer, she'd do something she'd regret, such as slap him again. The anger from the early years, of watching Chandler damage and injure himself as well as the years after during which she was forced to the sidelines as he punished himself over and over because of what Joey did to them was catching up with her. Joey was standing right in front of her, and even though she was elated to finally see him again, all she wanted was vengeance for what he did to her husband, and she didn't know if she could control herself in the state she was in.

Joey was Joey, but right now she was seeing him as someone who didn't deserve her respect or consideration. She walked past him, stopping as their shoulders lightly touched, unable to resist another comment.

"He almost killed himself y'know,"

she said quietly, the memory bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. There was no need to clarify who and why, Joey's face falling in a shock as she bit her lip, deciding whether or not to add more. She slipped her hand quickly into Joey's, squeezing it tightly. She trusted him to have good intentions, and she still loved him, even after all those years, but currently there was only hate in her system.

"I'm Monica Bing, I don't think we've met," Monica said pleasantly as she moved on, politely introducing herself to Joey's wife. She had not one problem with this woman, who did seem quite surprised by her rapid mood swings.

Joey watched Chandler snapped out of his trance, turn on his heel and storm out quietly into the kitchen. Monica left with Alex, and suddenly he was alone in the living room with Erica, Chance and Ryes.

"Daddy?" Ryes asked uncertainly, and Joey unstuck from his position on the ground, his cheek smarting from Monica's man-like strength, only one thing on his mind. He had to get to Chandler. He had to explain himself.

He was about to go past the children when he noticed the frightened expression on Ryes' face, knowing instantly that his first obligation was always going to be to them. "Stay right here," Joey ordered, kissing Ryes on the forehead and patting Chance on the back. "Congrats on the engagement, Mom's going to be thrilled." He flashed him and Erica a smiled before heading off through a doorway in the house, wondering where on earth Chandler would have gone to, and how he was going to navigate his way through the spacious house.

oOo

Chance set Ryes down on the couch, who only came to his shoulders while standing on it. He glanced over nervously to Erica, who returned his look. Obviously their parents had a history with each other, and, obviously, it wasn't a very joyous one.

"That was-"

"-weird-"

"Right?"

"Yeah…" Chance finished, reaching for Erica's hand. "Did you know?" he asked quietly, and Erica shook her head,

"Did you?"

Chance shook his head as well, "No."

Apparently whatever argument their parents had gotten into wasn't new news, and had been kept secret from them. It seemed impossible that their parents happened to know each other and had had a history that caused this much tension between them… but it _was_ happening, and Chance knew Erica was thinking the same thing as him; hopefully it wouldn't affect them, or their plans to marry.

"I love you," he said quickly, making sure that they were still as golden as they were five minutes ago.

"I love you too," Erica smiled back, pulling him in and kissing him quickly.

"I love you," Ryes added so as not to be left out, wrapping his hands around Chance's waist. Chance laughed, relieved that him and Erica were good, and Ryes didn't understand the nature of what had just occurred.

"I love you too," he reassured Ryes, using his free arm to pull the little boy in. Ryes smiled, and Chance looked up at Erica, a sudden thought occurring.

"Did we actually tell anyone we were getting married?"

oOo

Joey found Chandler in the corner of his and Monica's rather large backyard, sitting down cross-legged on the grass while picking at it robotically underneath what looked to be an age-old oak tree. Its leaves were a deep, healthy green, its roots beginning to protrude the surface of the ground that surrounded it, creating tiny hills and mounds in the ant terrain.

He stopped 5 yards away from Chandler, an invisible bubble keeping him from going further. He felt alien to the man whose head was resting in the palm of his right hand, his hair sticking up in a way that told Joey he'd been running his hand through it probably just seconds ago. His shoulders were hunched, and there was a bit of gray starting to show on his hair that altered his physical appearance slightly.

But it was the Chandler Bing he'd lived for as a roommate for seven years and best friend for ten.

Ten years.

Ten years of closeness, trust, fun and bonding that Joey had upped and left behind.

He knew enough not to try and pretend that Chandler was just a roommate. When he made his decision, he convinced himself that Chandler was just that, and nothing more. He came to realize that he was a better actor then he gave himself credit for, convincing himself that Chandler was just a roommate, because he'd always been more. Thinking any less of him was something that Joey never understood how he managed to do, though it didn't last long.

Chandler had been his friend, his comfort, his security for ten years. He had invested in Chandler what he had never before invested in anyone else – love. He'd had friends all throughout school, but it was Chandler that had allowed him the freedom and capability to learn that friends weren't just people you spent time with while you were bored… they were people that became a part of you, as real and present as your hands or feet.

With Chandler he'd learned that no matter what he always had a friend there, a true friend that would be behind him and supporting him regardless of the circumstances. Chandler would always be beside him to make sure he was okay, and then push him back up on his feet as soon as he was feeling able.

Even when they didn't live in the same house, they maintained a bond that in some ways got stronger the longer they were apart. They looked out for each other – they understood and knew each other. They just meshed. One of the things he missed the most about Chandler was how they lived two completely different lives, and yet they still managed to maintain the same brain wave.

He knew what Chandler was thinking, and what he had to say in order to keep Chandler talking. They could talk for hours on end because they both knew how to prompt each other into a conversation. Their banter was one of the things that Joey missed the most during the years he'd been gone, missing the ease at which the words came to them. Sure, he sometimes had it with Alex, but it was different. She wasn't… him.

Not only that, but there was another thing Chandler had helped him accomplish during the years that they were together, one that led him to Alex. Chandler showed him that he didn't have to be afraid of a relationship and that he didn't necessarily have to fool around with every girl he met for them to like him. Sure, he still loved doing it – but when he saw Monica and Chandler together, how it just, worked; he knew that it was what he wanted one day.

Chandler, the commitment-phobia freak, was married to a wonderful women Joey had come to think of as a little sister. If Chandler could do it, then he certainly could. He saw the things that Chandler did to spoil and convey to Monica his love everyday, and took it in stride. He'd learned from Chandler that taking things slowly worked, learned that there was more to life and women then just the physical stuff. That pick-up lines and charm would only go so far before real emotions and feelings came through.

Watching Chandler grow and mature from what he used to be, to what he'd become just before he left New York made Joey glow with pride even all these years later. It saddened him to think of all the things he'd missed during his exile, especially the opportunity to watch his five friends attempt to create families of their own and control their respective offspring.

The five of them had been such amazing friends to him, and he realized when he left how caring and kind they had truly been. Now that he looked back at the days he'd spent with them, he saw just how naïve and ignorant of the world around him they let him be. He'd grown so much in a minds sense that he was sure Chandler would be able to instantly detect something different about him and the way he carried himself.

His group of friends had gone a long way in protecting him from the world. In LA it felt like he was ripped from his civilization in NY, his comfortable home, the place where he knew how things functioned and worked, and thrown into a lions den wherein he realized that he actually was a lion, and was expected to know how to play with the big boys.

He opened his mouth to speak, knowing that thinking about the old days with Chandler were bad enough without continuing on the path he was headed down to think about Rachel, Ross, Phoebe and Monica.

oOo

A picture frame caught Chance's eye, two familiar people and one he didn't know smiling at him through the thin sheet of glass. "Who is that?" he asked curiously, pointing to it.

"Who is what?" Erica asked absentmindedly. Ryes had taken an instant liking to her and she was too busy getting him comfortable on her lap to look up.

"That there," Chance repeated, rolling his eyes childishly before Erica finally looked up,

She looked in the direction that Chance was pointed, but saw nothing. "Where?" she asked.

Chance let out a deep, irritated breath, stabbing the air in the direction of the frame, "Where I'm pointing at, Ric!" he explained impatiently.

Erica looked at it and then back at him, confusion on her face. "You've been coming here for how long and you're just asking now?" she questioned incredulously, her eyebrows raised.

"Isn't it a complement that I pay more attention to you then the decorations during those visits?" Chance muttered, shaking his head. Ryes grinned at him, and Chance had to wonder if he knew what was being implied during the sentence.

"Right…" Erica muttered embarrassed, taking another look at the picture. "Uh, that's my dad and Emma's dad and… someone named, Joey I think? They used to be best friends," Erica recited, taking from what she'd gathered through out the years on the three guys' relationship. "I don't remember ever seeing him when I was young – but," she viewed the picture carefully, "that _is _a surprisingly good picture of my dad…"

Chance took the picture and showed it to Ryes, who wordlessly nodded his agreement. How did he miss this before? At least him and Ryes were thinking the same thing, "Erica," he interrupted gently, "That's _MY _dad and two guys I didn't know until a year ago…"

Erica took the picture from Chance and stared at it hard. She glanced at Ryes, who looked like a mini-me of the man in the picture, and back at the picture. Ryes did have a scary resemblance to Chance's dad, even though she'd only seen him for a minute…

"Holy crap, it IS your dad!" she exclaimed.

oOo

"Pretty impressive backyard you have here," Joey said for lack of something better, feeling stupid the instant the words left his mouth. There was no ice breaker for this topic, so he just started with whatever truth he had on hand. He saw Chandler chuckle in the slightest, but his former best friend didn't turn to face him, or in any other way acknowledge his presence.

Chandler picked at the grass, ripping it out of the ground then dropping it, repeating the motion over and over and over again mindlessly. Monica would probably have a field day once she found out what he'd done, but he couldn't stop, the movement the only thing keeping him sane and keeping him quiet. He couldn't talk, not yet at least. He had to organize his thoughts first. He'd put it off for the better part of two decades, and now there was no way around it.

He used to believe that Joey was the one with the biggest heart within their own small group of six. The guy you could trust to be right behind you in a bar fights welding a bat without knowing the problem or motivation; that was Joey.

He used to believe that Joey would be the one trying until the very end to keep them together and in touch. That Joey would be the glue that held everything together if things ever started falling apart or getting rough. Joey would be the one throwing gatherings and events on any occasion that had even the slightest calling for one so that the six of them would be together regularly.

But it wasn't to be, and fate apparently wished to mock him once more, rearing its ugly face in the short, simple note that Joey had left him on his birthday twenty-two years and some odd months ago. Joey was the first one he really let into his heart after his parents divorce. And just like they had, he one day forgot about how much Chandler needed him and ran for the door.

Maybe it would have been better if he'd been ready to say goodbye to his best friend, but there was nothing in the world that could have prepared him for the shock. Shock wasn't the right word; it was too light.

Devastation sounded truer, though it still lacked a certain dooming quality.

Joey's departure had turned the world and everything in it inside out and upside down for him – his whole belief system shot to hell in those few minutes.

All at once things weren't as clear as they had been before.

Were Ross and Rachel really going over to Jack and Judy's? Or were they just ditching him because he was annoying and they didn't find his jokes endearing, but truly annoying?

Did Phoebe really want to see 'Liar Liar Grapple Hook' with him? Or was she just going along with it because she pitied him and wanted to humor him some before she took his heart and played hopscotch with it?

Did Monica really love him? Or was she just playing along to some torturous game they were all in on, laughing at him and preparing for just the right moment where they would pack up and leave without him?

He was soon at a point where the adopted twins - did Joey even know about his and Monica's infertility issues? He couldn't remember - were the only ones he really trusted and allowed entrance into his heart; they were so young and small and so unaware of things like pain and abandonment - much less have the capability to do carry such tasks out.

His marriage had suffered by far the worse. Chandler knew his feelings for Monica were genuine, but everyday he began doubted the honesty in the ones Monica told him she had, and everyday he wondered if things were how they really were.

If Joey, the lovable goof, had done something so uncharacteristic such as leaving without saying goodbye or at least giving them a reason better then, _'It's for the best', _what was to say that Monica didn't have the same kind of potential to do something like that or worse? He loved her too much to let her go, and he couldn't bear to be hurt again, so he did what he had done the first time he'd felt the pain – he withdrew from the world, shielded himself so that he couldn't be hurt again.

His friends noticed, and when they tried to get him to open up and tell them what was wrong, he knew that they were going to break him. So he did the next thing he knew how to do in order to protect himself from the pain that they could cause – he got there first.

He glanced up at the tree to distract his attention from his dark memories, "Me and Mon planted this here when we first moved in, twenty years ago," his voice was monotone and lifeless, "Ross and Rachel got married under it…" he finished, trailing off and staring up at the great branches. It seemed like yesterday they had planted it, and now it was so big. It'd seen a lot of memories – millions more then Joey had seen, he thought bitterly.

"I-"

Suddenly anger surged through his body and he shot up like an electrical shock, "How could you ever justify what you did to us?" he asked shaking, his fists clenched, his voice barely under what would be considered yelling. "To me?" he added softer.

"Chandler," Joey whispered, the name leaving a bitter sweet feel on his tongue. It'd been a long time since he'd uttered his name out loud, but it still felt right and familiar. "You don't understan-"

The word wasn't over but Chandler felt himself snap, unable to contain his usually moderate temper, "Understand what?" he snapped, throwing the words out like poison, "That you have three kids? That your son is marrying my daughter? That you have a wife?" his voice was rising and he couldn't help it, "That you live in LA? That you just packed up and left one day? That you left a note for me on my BIRTHDAY? That YOU'VE DISAPPEARED FOR THE PAST TWENTY YEARS?!"

"Twenty-two, Chandler," Joey whispered, his eyes falling down to the ground, close to tears. He'd never heard Chandler yell like this before, much less at him and this was something that he knew he deserved, but wanted to avoid at all costs. There was so much anger and betrayal coming through his words and the way that he said them, Joey had to remind himself that he had done what he thought to be the best thing.

That the reason for all this was protecting both of _them _for the past twenty-two years.

Chandler stopped in the middle of his rant when he heard Joey's voice and just stared. "What?" he whispered after a second, surprised that such a small sound on Joey's part could make him seize talking. It was probably his name what had done it; he wasn't used to it being said by Joey after not hearing it for twenty years.

"It's been twenty-two years," Joey corrected, adding, "Chandler." Now that he said it once, he couldn't stop saying it. He missed saying it everyday, missed seeing the person the name belonged to everyday. Longing made his chest ache, and he abruptly felt he hadn't slept in eons.

Chandler waited, giving Joey a chance to explain himself. Twenty-two years was a long time to wait for a reason, but he was sure he could extend that courtesy to Joey, if only for a few seconds. Joey didn't take the bait, and he started on his next round of hot accusations.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded angrily, and Joey shook his head, sitting down on a bench a little further from Chandler. He had to get away from the pressure and anger. "What the hell were you thinking?" Chandler demanded, his voice going up because of his frustration. Why wasn't Joey answering him?

"I trusted you Joey!" he yelled, losing control of his body as he gestured wildly, coming closer to Joey, "What in GODS NAME could have happened that you couldn't possibly explain to the people you lived with for ten years?!"

"Chandler…" Joey trailed off, resign in his voice. He was going to have to tell them eventually. Everything he'd worked for, everything he sacrificed – was all for nothing. He'd left them all for twenty years, and it was all for absolutely nothing.

Chandler had backed off, his hands now shoved deep into his pocket, glancing around the garden for anything that wasn't the person sitting in front of him. He felt himself opening up despite his greatest efforts; the words slipping out before he had a chance to wrangle them back inside his throat.

"You were my brother," he admitted softly, "I loved you…" he said even quieter, trailing off. He glanced at Joey quickly before becoming interested in the flower to his right. "And you just left…" he finished, fiddling with the silky petals.

In the last four words, Joey could tell how devastated Chandler must have been when it happened. Guilt and regret washed over him. He'd protected Rachel, and her, but in the long run, did it matter? Monica's words rang in his ears, and in that moment he knew that he'd hurt them all more then he'd protected them by leaving. Now was time for the truth to come out.

Hopefully they would understand he was trying to keep them from getting hurt, "I couldn't…" he started, but Chandler cut him off with a harsh,

"Don't. Just. Don't." he finished forcefully, crushing the flower in his hands. His action caught him by surprised, and he stared at the destroyed, fragile plant in his palm. The resemblance between how it looked, and what he had been scared him and he dropped it like it was a hot coal.

He turned away from it and walked from the memories and the confrontation. It only took Joey a second to catch him by the arm, stopping him.

The physical touch sent a current through both of them, and Chandler yanked his arm away as the warm feeling dispersed among his bones and muscle mass. "What?" he asked shortly, anger still tightly wound in his tone.

"Chandler- you don't understand-" Joey attempted that route again, but Chandler once again cut him off angrily,

"Understand what? That you left me? That you didn't talk to me for twenty years? That you just packed up your life and left me? I trusted you!" he pointed, poking Joey in the chest. He pulled away and placed the hand in his pocket, "You were my best friend. And now our kids are engaged? – I didn't even know you had a son!"

"Amy was pregnant!" he blurted out and Chandler froze. The name rung a bell and it sounded vaguely familiar to him. Who did he know by the name Amy? There was one out there for sure…

"Who?" he questioned, his anger forgotten for a moment as he fished for hints about who this Amy was.

"Amy," Joey repeated, urging Chandler to be on the same wave length, praying that he recognized the name so that he wouldn't have to explain.

A fleeting moment of realization and memory flared on Chandler's face and his eyes went wide as he asked confirmation, "Rachel's-"

Joey cut him off before he could get any more out, "Yeah. Amy was pregnant." He let out a deep breath, happy that Chandler wasn't punching him. He wanted to punch himself, but Chandler had a curious, open look in his eye, one that hungered for more knowledge and insight. Perhaps Joey did have a legitimate reason for leaving them behind, however flaky that reason be. Maybe there was a chance – a small, small chance that he could find a little bit in him that would forgive Joey… He chastised himself for thinking like that – it was too early. He first had to hear the story about Joey and Rachel's sister.

"How?" he asked breathless, and he could see that Joey took his offense against Rachel seriously. His eyes were getting red and watery; Chandler knew that it killed him he let something like this happen with one of his best friend's sisters.

"It was-" Joey started, before cutting off. It wasn't only them he risked hurting, it was _her _as well. The love of his life, one down from Alex. The biggest mistake that cost him everything in NY, but also gave him everything he ever wanted from his life.

"I don't know. It was one night, and it was a mistake. I couldn't get Rachel, and… she was the next best thing," he hung his head ashamed, his long gone crush on Rachel bubbling back to the surface. Chandler knew – he'd heard about it and knew that Joey's feelings had flustered him at the time.

"She didn't want to deal," he explained desperately, attempting to get his feelings across about how difficult it was to make the decision. "I was so scared. I didn't want Rach to find out, and Amy was threatening to-" he stopped suddenly, his eyes beginning to tear from the memories of Amy threatening to end the life of their tiny, defenseless baby.

Chandler didn't make a move to physically touch Joe, but he moved closer and nodded, his eyes softening at the thought of what he would do in a situation like Joey's. "She didn't want anyone knowing. She said she wouldn't tell if I took the baby and left, so I did. I had to leave Chandler, I had to. For Rachel and the baby. I had to," he stressed, pleaded for Chandler to understand his situation.

What would have Chandler done if he'd been in his shoes? How could someone not take the deal where the stakes were so high? Another look of recognition passed across Chandler face, and he gasped, "Melody?" he whispered in a forbidding tone.

"She doesn't know," Joey warned, instantly protective of his illegitimate daughter. "I told Alex, and we both agreed that Melody shouldn't have to know about it. It'll only hurt her Chandler," Joey explained, the subtext being that it was to remain that way.

"Yeah, yeah of course," Chandler nodded sidetracked, mulling over what he'd just heard. It was defiantly true- there was no denying the resemblance between Rachel and Melody, and now he could sort of understand Joey's motives for leaving without saying anything. If he'd said anything it in the note then they would have eventually figured it out and it would all jump off the wagon.

"I was protecting them," Joey added, "Melody, Rachel and Amy. All three of them; that's why I left."

Chandler was at a loss of what to think, and Joey was standing in front of him, waiting for his verdict. "You're a bastard," Chandler said finally, though it lacked the venom and hate that had accompanied his previous questions and allegations.

"What was I supposed to do?" Joey asked honestly; open to consider any other option he could have taken. He was a little more relaxed now though – it was almost as if Chandler's calling him a bastard was a necessity, something that had to be said regardless.

Chandler thought for a moment, scratching his ear, "Tell the truth?" he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders. For a second Joey was twenty years younger, and Chandler's suggestion was a joke, the sarcastic type of which he always told. He hadn't missed a thing, and they were discussing something stupid that he'd done, Chandler mocking him playfully while trying to think of something to say that would help.

His suggestion wouldn't have worked, telling the truth would have ended very badly, and the way Joey had done it had given each of the respective women a shot at happiness after everything was said and done. Joey opened his mouth to try and explain that but Chandler stopping him before any sound came out,

"I know," he said softly, understanding shining in his eyes. He understood how it were to be a father, and the protective feeling that well up in his chest every time that he saw Jack or Erica. He couldn't imagine someone trying to take one of them away, especially when they were that young and had everything to look forward to in their young lives.

"I'm sorry Chandler," Joey whispered quietly, and for the first time since Chandler could remember, Joey was crying. He hesitantly stepped forwards and Joey did the same, and within seconds they were sharing a hug.

Chandler pressed his face into Joey's neck, missing the feeling he had in his stomach right then and there. "I know, me too," he whispered, reveling in the moment, "But I'm still going to be pissed at you for a while," he warned with a hint of joke, and Joey nodded. That was understandable – he'd done something that was almost unforgivable in his mind frame, but he was glad that he and Chandler were at least on the path to being good again.

One down, four to go…

Chandler hugged Joey tightly, missing the feeling of being close to Joey and understanding him, something that he'd skipped out on over the years, due to no fault of his own. He missed this guy with everything in his heart, and even though so much had happened in those early years without him, he saw the seed of forgiveness beginning to bloom in his heart.

All the pain and suffering he'd been through and caused his friends to go through would never be forgotten, but they could be forgiven, bit by bit. Joey had to make an impossible decision and had made it with his best judgment. Chandler would have done the same thing, and knew that everyone else would come to understand. They were really adults now, all of them, and they had children of their own.

He began to rub Joey's back when he realized that he was still crying, "It's okay," he muttered, and Joey hugged him tighter. His ribs felt like they were five seconds away from breaking when he heard Joey's voice in his ear,

"I missed you guys," he whispered. Chandler already knew that, but if Joey said it he would acknowledge it again.

"I know buddy," he comforted, trying to get Joey to calm down and perhaps not send him to the ER. "It's okay…"

"It drove me crazy not being able to see you every day of the week, not being able to hear your voice… missing everything that happened. I've missed so much Chandler," he said with a slight hint of hysteria, and Chandler forgot about his pain and knew that Joey was about to ask him how he could make up for missing all the things he had while he was gone.

There was no way to go back in time, but even if there was he wasn't sure Joey would do anything different if he had the chance. He'd met a girl he'd fallen in love with – which was a major accomplishment for Joey – he'd had three beautiful children, and he had gotten over twenty years of keeping his secret a secret.

There was a lot that Joey had missed, Chandler wasn't going to deny that, but he knew that the others would be understanding and hopefully a little sympathetic once they heard his explanation. It was going to be interesting to watch him tell Rachel, but she would come around, having had Emma herself, and understanding what kind of joy a child was, how protective one felt towards their babies, even if they were getting married or going off to collage.

Joey **had** missed a lot, but they had a bright future in front of them. Their kids were getting married, so it wasn't likly they could avoid each other forever, and better now and here then at the wedding.

"What can I do to make it better?" Joey asked quietly, just as Chandler predicted, his voice cracking. Chandler thought for a second about his response, knowing he was talking for not only himself but for five other people when he softly said,

"Don't ever leave us like that again."

**-Twenty Years- **

**FRIENDS**

**Cohen101**


End file.
